


Hazy Shade of Winter

by Kangaruth



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: First Kiss, Flash Fic, Fluff, M/M, Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-16 09:57:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5824252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kangaruth/pseuds/Kangaruth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eames shows a definite preference for snowy dreams. Arthur never tells anyone why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hazy Shade of Winter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kate_the_reader](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kate_the_reader/gifts).



The second level has gone off without a hitch, Arthur thinks, as he nods at Dom across the room. He's always worried about the stability of two level dreams, especially when he doesn't have the luxury of being the dreamer. Dom grins, dreams up a gun to shoot himself with, and his body collapses. Arthur tries to ignore it. Now Dom has extracted the information they came for he has to check in with Eames and let him know it's safe to wake up.

They're in a Swiss chalet; a replica of one the mark took ski holidays in during his privileged youth. Dom has, with the help of some suggestion on the first level, extracted his secrets from a dull, boring safe in the bland dining room. Not even any safebreaking had been required. Eames is upstairs "distracting" the mark with a dumb, blonde ski-bunny type, and this, too, is annoying Arthur - for reasons he didn't like to think about too much.

It's been a dream of a job (dream of a dream-job... heh). Arthur found all the info he needed with ease, simply by friending the mark on Facebook - and you would think people guarding corporate secrets would know better than to let complete strangers access their Facebook profiles, even if Arthur was pretending to be "Dave from that corporate networking thing the other month". The two-level dream was more because Dom wanted to experiment than because it was really necessary. He reckons that, with practise, they will be able to sustain the deeper level with less disturbance and this will give them the edge in trickier jobs. Nash, their new architect is watching over the top level. Arthur does not like Nash. He thinks his work is slapdash, but Dom maintains he's just inexperienced.

And as for Eames... Arthur has no idea what Eames is doing here, quite honestly. They're getting paid a fortune for an easy job, it's true, but Dom is supposed to be saving up for a team of lawyers, or whatever, to help him with his mess back home, so he shouldn't be wasting money on hiring pointless forgers for easy jobs. Eames had spent the entire prep time for the job sketching doodles, or drinking tea with his feet up, and trying to get a rise out of Arthur. As if Arthur didn't have better things to do. Well, Arthur didn't have better things to do, of course, since this job was a cake-walk, but if it had been a proper job he would have had better things to do, and Eames didn't know that anyway.

So yes, all in all, Arthur is not enjoying this job. Right now, he thinks, it would be vastly improved by a hoard of angry projections and a Kalashnikov.

The jolt Arthur feels as he reaches the top of the stairs surprises him, although the adrenaline rush he feels in response is not unwelcome. The rumbling that follows is definitely ominous - an avalanche. The dream is collapsing, Arthur panics, which means Eames is dead, or unconscious. Either way, Arthur is going to kill him!

So Arthur is quite taken aback when he opens the door to the master bedroom to find a shirtless Eames at the open window, snowflakes fluttering in.

"Hullo, darling!" he says, grinning. "I take it all has gone to plan?"

"Yes," says Arthur, confused. And not at all prepared for the sight of Eames' tattoos. "But what's going on? I thought the dream was collapsing! Aren't you supposed to be forging? Where's the mark?"

"The mark," Eames doesn't stop grinning, "took an unfortunate tumble out of the window moments after I heard a gunshot. Dom's, I assume?"

"You killed him?" Arthur is aghast. "You weren't supposed to wake him up before us! Nash won't know what to do with him. We can't risk him remembering this!"

"Darling!" Eames expression morphs from his punch-me-in-the-face grin to mock outrage. "I would never endanger your job. Neville tumbled out of the window and onto a sledge. The impact set it careening down the conveniently-placed ski slope. He isn't going to remember the... uncomfortable interaction we just had, because all he's going to remember about his dream is the sensation of flying through fresh powdery snow!"

Arthur is incapable of speech. He thinks he's still furious... but sometimes with Eames it's difficult to tell. "Uncomfortable interaction?" he queries, rather than analyse his feelings.

"Yes, well. Turns out that young Neville isn't as interested in girls as he leads others to believe. It may have taken me a few moments to cotton on - I went in the wrong direction first - and by then... it was too late for more than damage control."

"But -" Arthur has seen Neville's Facebook. He's analysed his finances. He is definitely into girls. He's even paid for hookers on occasion!

"Oh, he prefers women to men, certainly," Eames breaks in, "but he's not interested in bedding them. Hence the discomfort with finding me, here, in his dream. He was quite unsettled. We're lucky the blizzard blew in so fast, and the avalanche cut off the driveway, or I suspect we'd have been set upon by projections."

"He's not into women... or men?" Arthur is chewing that one over.

"Completely asexual. Poor bugger. Still, takes all sorts. Imagine not being into sex, though... no appreciation for the soft curves of a woman - well, you'd understand that bit, darling - but not to desire the connection of another's touch, the security of a strong embrace... not to crave the passion of a good hard..."

"Eames!" Arthur is back to furious, he thinks, although his blood is rushing to his cheeks (and other places he isn't thinking about) and his head is swimming. Furious and not at all impressed by Eames' quick thinking.

"Well, yes, quite, darling." And Eames winks at him, smug grin back in place. "So, anyway. We should stick around a while. Give him some time to enjoy his completely unrelated-to-sex dream. Enjoy the beautiful view."

There is no reason for Arthur to stick around while Eames dreams up a winter-wonderland fantasy for the mark to enjoy. He ought to shoot himself out the the first level and fill Dom and Nash in. But instead he finds himself next to the window, where the beautiful vista of snowy Alps is completely obscured by the thickly falling snow. "What view?"

Eames turns to him and his grin fades to a soft, genuine smile. "This one," he says, turning to look at Arthur. "It's the best." He moves forward, until they are nose to nose, and all Arthur can see are his eyes.

Arthur is still, his breath caught. Waiting.

Eames kisses Arthur, softly on the lips.

"Oh," says Arthur, and kisses him back.

****

Afterwards, Eames shows a definite preference for snowy dreams. Arthur never tells anyone why.


End file.
